Dainty's Cruel Rivals; Or, The Fatal Birthday
But somehow the best catches seemed already engaged, and the next best
ones, while politely attentive to Mrs. Ellsworth's guests, did not
betray any marked predilection for their society. Though handsome and
well-dressed, they failed somehow in that indefinable charm that often
wins for a plainer girl a really enviable lover.
This fact has been often observed in life. The most perfect beauty,
unless united to an innate goodness that forms an attractive aura about
the person, often fails to impress and win.
"What a beautiful girl! Pray introduce me!" exclaims some admiring young
man; but on being presented, he feels an unconscious chill, and after
leaving the beauty's presence, finds he has lost all interest in what
before had charmed him so. The most probable cause is, that the fair
face hid an ignoble soul whose influence had vaguely chilled and
depressed his admiration.
Olive Peyton was peculiarly of this unpleasant type. Proud, vain, cold,
and ambitious, she had never possessed any magnetic power of attraction,
and had actually never received a single proposal, though it would have
mortified her intensely for any one to find it out.
Ela, who patterned after Olive as nearly as possible, had never had any
offer but that of Vernon Ashley, which she had been glad enough to
accept until she thought a better chance had presented itself.
So, very naturally, both the young girls cherished an inward spite and
envy for the sweet, lovable girl who had won so easily the prize they
coveted.
They could see, too, from the actions of the young men who came to
Ellsworth, that they envied the proud lover the prize he had won. She
might easily have had a dozen other offers had not Love won her promise
so quickly. How could any one wonder at it who saw how kind-hearted and
gentle she was, always thinking of others more than herself, always
pitying another's sorrow, always glad of another's joy, always
light-hearted and sunny, hiding her grief, if she ever had one, under a
merry smile?
"Her laugh,
As light as wine or chaff,
Breaks clear at witty sallies,
As brooks
Run bubbling through the nooks
Of all her southern valleys.
"Her voice,
By nature and by choice,
Even those who knew her slightest
Would find
As soft as southern wind
When southern winds are lightest."
So the summer days flew, and the happy lover was making all the
preparations for the wedding.
It must be a grand affair, of course. Half the county would expect an
invitation to the wedding of Lovelace Ellsworth, and he was not averse
to having them witness his happiness.
The invitations were sent out two weeks beforehand. Dainty would never
forget that day, because it was on that very night that the Ellsworth
ghost reappeared to cast its lowering shadow again over her happiness.
It was quite a week since she had seen it, and Love had almost persuaded
her that she had dreamed the whole thing, or that Sheila Kelly had
probably played ghost to annoy her, when suddenly one night it
reappeared more horribly than ever before, striking consternation to
even the stout heart of old black mammy, who roused the whole house with
her terrified shrieks, and filled Love Ellsworth's heart with rage at
her graphic story.
CHAPTER XV.
BLACK MAMMY'S STORY.
In the dead waste and middle of the night, the sleeping household of
Ellsworth was startled from repose by long, loud, wailing cries that
rang through the wide corridors and vaulted roofs like the shrieks of
some lost, despairing soul.
Instantly every sleeper was wide awake. Hurrying on scraps of outer
clothing, they rushed from their rooms in wild alarm to the scene of
disturbance.
On the floor at some distance from the half-open door lay Dainty Chase,
clothed only in her night robes, her fair face upturned to the dim night
light like the face of one dead, while over her bent the figure of old
black mammy, grotesque in her red flannel petticoat, large-flowered
calico sacque, and white turban, and pathetic in the grief with which
she chafed Dainty's cold little hands, begging her to open her eyes and
speak just one word to her poor old mammy.
"Yo' aine dead, is yo', honey, darlin', is yo' now? Don't you know dat I
done chase dat ole debbil, an' made him drap you ter sabe heself? When I
clutch him tight an' pinch he arms, he groan wif pain an' drap ye on de
flo', slap me clean ober, and run fer his life. Open yer eyes now,
deares', fer here comes Massa Love an' de ladies, an' all."
It was true. There was Love, his step-mother, her nieces, and several
of the upstairs servants on the scene; but Dainty Chase lay among them
white and still as one already dead, making no reply to the old woman's
affectionate pleadings.
With a terrified cry, Love knelt by his stricken darling and clasped her
tiny hands in his, but they were cold and limp like the newly dead.
"What means this?" he cried, sternly, to the wailing old negress; and
she sobbed:
"Oh, Massa Love, de black debbil heself kem by Miss Dainty's bed, grab
her up in his arms, an' fly 'way wif her, an' I follow lik' de wind and
pinch he arms so he scream wid pain an' drap her on de floor, kase he
seen he cain't git 'way from me. Den he slap me so hard hit made me see
stars, an' tumbled me ober by Miss Dainty, while he got 'way ter he own
bad place ergin."
"What silly lies! Do not listen to her, Love. She is as hysterical as
Dainty!" cried Mrs. Ellsworth, scornfully. "Take the girl back to her
room, some of you gaping servants, and let us bring her out of this
spell."
But Love took the silent figure up in his own arms and carried her back,
after saying sternly to the servants:
"A hundred dollars reward to the person who discovers the fiend who has
played ghost and frightened Miss Chase again. Now, Carter, mount the
fleetest horse, and bring the nearest physician here at once."
"But that is needless. We can revive her as we did the other night she
had another spell like this!" Mrs. Ellsworth cried, as she followed into
the room, where he laid his darling down tenderly, drawing the covers
over the cold form with reverent hands.
"You can go now, Love. Your presence in the room is not quite seemly,
and there are plenty women to attend Dainty," she added, imperiously,
while Olive and Ela looked silently on.
To her chagrin, he answered, firmly:
"I shall not withdraw until she revives. She is my promised wife, and I
do not recognize any impropriety in my presence at such a crisis."
Fire flashed from her eyes; but she dared not oppose the master of
Ellsworth further. She could only say, with a furtive sneer:
"Then Olive and Ela, you had better return to your rooms, as it is
improper for you to stay under the circumstances. Do not be uneasy over
your cousin. She will soon be all right."
The girls hurried away, and Mrs. Ellsworth remained with the old mammy
and two white women servants all vying with each other in efforts to
restore Dainty to consciousness, while Love looked on in wild anxiety.
"It is useless, all that you can do. As well wait till the doctor
comes!" he said, hopelessly, at last; and indeed the throb of Dainty's
heart was so weak it did not seem as if she should ever return to the
life from which the great shock seemed to have driven her.
"Poor old black mammy, I was forgetting you! Here, drink this," he said,
hurriedly, mixing a stimulant, and placing it to the lips of the
trembling old negress, who had sunk to the floor, utterly unnerved, and
turning to an ashen-gray pallor. "As soon as you feel better," he added,
"I would like to hear a truthful account of all that happened to throw
you and Miss Chase into such a state."
The old woman gasped, rolled the whites of her big eyes at him; then,
lying heavily back in the arm-chair where he had placed her, muttered,
feebly:
"I gwine tell de trufe, an' nothin' else, Massa Love, an ef dat pore
darlin' eber comes back ter life ergin, she gwine tell yer de same as I
does. De black debbil hese'f comed inter dis room an' grab her up an'
run off wif she inter de hall. I seen him plain as day, in his long
black gownd wif a string o' beads hangin' down by de side, an' er li'l
ole skull-cap on his haid, an' he face all gashly white like a
corp--umme!" she groaned; adding: "But I'll tell de trufe--he didn't
pear to hab no hoofs nor horns, an' I always did hear dat he had both.
Umme! ter think o' seein' dat ole debbil heself, an' livin' arterward!"
groaned old mammy, while every one listened eagerly, Mrs. Ellsworth
alone giving little sniffs of incredulity.
"Is that all?" queried Love, at this juncture; and dolefully wagging her
turbaned head, mammy answered, impressively:
"No, suh, no, 'tain't all! I gwine begin at de beginnin' now, an' 'late
de whole story. Fust t'ing, es I was settin' an' noddin' in my cheer, I
heerd de soun' o' somebody coughin' an' coughin' er dreadful hackin'
cough, lak some one in de last stage o' consumption. Hit soun' so
nateral it made my flesh creep, fer I suddenly 'members de story o' de
ghost-cough dat frighten sweet Miss Dainty. I turn my eyes to de baid
ter see ef she's awaken' by de noise, an' in de darkness dere all at
once flash a li'l blue-green gashly light, flickerin' erbout de ceilin',
den here an' dar erbout de room, den down on Miss Dainty's face, an' I
see her so pale, wif her big blue eyes wide open, skeered lak, an' she
listenin' an' lookin', silent-lak, in turrible fear, so pitiful it nigh
bruk my heart!"
CHAPTER XVI.
THE GHOST ALARM.
Mrs. Ellsworth turned from her task of chafing Dainty's cold hands, and
glared scornfully at the black mammy, exclaiming:
"How can you listen to such silly lies, Love? The old woman is in her
dotage!"
Love gave her a cold glance of rebuke and made no reply, motioning the
old woman to continue.
With her big eyes rolling in her ashy-pale face, and her toil-worn black
hands nervously clasping and unclasping each other, the old woman went
on:
"I'se sorry, Massa Love, but I cudn't git up as quick as I ought to go
ober to dat poor chile's aid, kase I was kinder struck dumb wif terror
an' 'sprise; an' whiles I was settin' an' watchin' her, all to onct I
seen a figger come glidin' from back o' me somewhar to de bedside, an' I
seen 'twas dressed in a long black gownd, wif string o' beads down de
side, an' a li'l black skull-cap on his haid, an' his face white like a
corpse, an' glarin' eyes dat struck terror to my soul!"
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Ellsworth cried, testily; but mammy paid no heed; she
only looked at Love, and went on with her story.
"When I seen dat figger all in black, I t'ought sure 'tis de debbil
hese'f, an' I got to sabe Miss Dainty from his clutches. I seen him lean
down, I seen him look in her pale face, an' I hear her low, stranglin'
moan o' fear, an' I pray, 'Lord he'p us!' den I rise to my feet an'
start to'ard de baid, dough shakin' lak a leaf; but jest den de brack
vilyun swoop down lak a hawk on a li'l chick, an' grab her up in his
arms an' run to de do', me a-follerin' an' screamin' at de top o' my
voice. Out de do' we dash, de good Lord givin' strength to my laigs, so
dat in de hall I catch holt o' dat black gownd, an' hang on a-screechin'
an' henderin' de debbil, so dat he hab to let go and drap de honey-chile
on de flo'. But de owdacious vilyun clapped me a lick onter my haid, an'
I seen so many stars as I fell ober Miss Dainty, dat he got away safe
enough befo' yo' all come rushin' out from yo' rooms--umme!" concluded
mammy, groaning, for her old gray head ached with the force of the blow
she had received in her plucky defense of her beautiful young charge.
At that moment the old physician, Doctor Platt, was ushered into the